Other
Weekly Petes

You
remember eating out at nice restaurants, but you can't recall ever having to
pick-up a check.

Whenever
you make love, you leave a long trail of clothes leading up to the bed.

Most
of your memories are montages with soundtracks.

You,
and everyone you know, have phone numbers that start with 555.

You
know that beatings don't hurt, that bullets don't wound, but even the slightest
cough can quickly become terminal.

Rent
never comes due in your New York City apartment, which is good, because if it
did, you couldn't afford it.

Every
time you lose control of your car it crashes through a fruit stand.

Friends
keep bringing up things you did together that you are already very well aware
of.

You
never, ever read, but yet you have read.

It
seems like every time you make a best friend that isn't particularly good
looking, they die on you.

You
can't recall the last time you went to the bathroom.

The
kooky gay guy who lives across the hall is always friendly and always
around. And no matter how mad he gets at you for screwing up your life,
you know he'll always be there for you.

Every
time you get really depressed (like after a break-up), rain washes against your
windows. When you feel better, it clears.

When
you look through binoculars you see the outline of a pair of binoculars instead
of just a magnified circle.

Every
time you turn to walk into the sunset, credits start to roll.

*
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *

BAD
ADVICE THROUGHOUT HISTORY

From
the "Hartford Chronicle," 1955

I
have a problem. My little boy, Michael, who is rather homely, really loves
to sing. If he could, he'd sing all day long at the top of his lungs, but the trouble is, he has
no talent. I've sent him for voice
lessons, to music school, even to music camp, and everyone agrees that he can't
sing. And now, for his birthday, little Michael desperately wants a
guitar. I'm worried that if I encourage his music, it'll lead to a
lifetime of humiliation and ridicule, and that's if he succeeds. What
should I do?

Signed,
Mrs. Bolton

Response:
Even though Michael has no talent, I believe that young men need all the
encouragement they can get. And as he's still young, I say give him the
guitar, let him fail, and then he'll move on to something he's more suited
for. What harm could it do?

From
"Blimps & Dirigibles," Germany, 1935

My
name is Fred, and I am currently building a giant rigid airship (a zeppelin)
that will be able to carry passengers across the Atlantic. Right now, I am
having trouble deciding whether to fill the airship with hydrogen, which is a
highly unstable, flammable gas, or helium, which is much more safe. What do
you think?

Signed,
Fred Zeppelin

Response:
While helium is a fine gas, and a very safe gas, I don't believe helium is the
gas for you. In a recent survey, 3 out of 4 Germans said they preferred
hydrogen in their airships. Another magazine recently called hydrogen a hip, trendy gas. So either you can play it safe, and go with
helium, or get with it, and go with hydrogen.

From
"Powersex," Washington, DC, 1990

I
am the mayor of a large East Coast city (and it ain't Washington, DC), who just
loves the ladies and loves to smoke crack. Now me and this little lady, we
had something real good going awhile ago, but then it ended. A few years
pass, I hear nothing, then all of the sudden she starts calling me, wanting to get
together for some sex and crack (by the way, is crack bad for you?). But
the thing is, she won't come to my place. She keeps insisting I meet her
at this fancy hotel where she's rented a room specially for us. Now I know
she ain't got no money. So what do you think? Is the goddamn bitch
trying to set me up?

Signed,
Not the Mayor of Washington, DC

Response:
Sounds like you're getting a little paranoid, which, as we all know, is what
power can do to you. I think the fact that you once dated this lady, and
nothing bad happened when it ended, tells me that her feelings for you are
genuine. I think she's just trying to offer you a peace pipe, a crack peace
pipe. So no, I don't think the goddamn bitch is trying to set you
up. So go, have fun with her. And about smoking crack, while you
might not want to do it all the time, don't worry, it's not habit forming.

From
"Dreams and Premonitions," London, 1912

The
other night, I had this dream I was stranded in an ocean, a big, ice cold ocean,
and there were hundreds of other people (rich people) in the water with
me. All around me were chunks of ice, and pieces of a ship, and looming over this whole scene
was a giant mountain of ice, and this giant mountain of ice was laughing at
me. Do you think this is some kind of premonition? Could it have
anything to do with a cruise I'm taking on the Titanic?

Signed,
Fear of Drowning

Response:
My dear sir, if dreams were that clear, then every time I dreamt I was having
sex I'd wake up and slap my husband. Your dream tells me that you will be
coming into money soon, perhaps from the death of a loved one. You will
use that money to try to get into the ice business, but don't do that, because
it'll be a big failure. So I'd say stay out of the ice business, and enjoy
your trip aboard the Titanic.

From
"The Russian Post," August, 1530

For
the past few months, I've been driving myself crazy trying to think of a
nickname for my son. Nowadays, it seems everyone is giving their sons big,
important nicknames, like Alexander the Great, or Todd the Especially
Clever. I happen to like the name Ivan the Terrible. But do
you think, with a name like that, it might make him grow up into a bad person?

Signed,
Ingrid the Concerned

Response:
I've heard plenty of lousy names for children, Frederick the Idiotic and Joseph
the Flatulent come to mind. Personally, I think Ivan the Terrible is a
great name, and I do not believe for one second that it could effect his
behavior. As a matter of fact, I once knew a Doug the Disemboweler who was
the nicest guy you could ever meet.

From
the "Troy Gazette," 12th Century BC

My
country, Troy, is currently at war with Greece. Recently, it seems like Greece is looking for a truce, and to show that they're serious, they've given us this
giant wooden horse. They've pushed it right in front of our gate.
The Greeks tell us it's an offering for Athena which will make Troy
impregnable. But I'm not sure. I've gone out and looked at the
horse, and I swear I could hear people mumbling inside. What do you
think? Are the goddamn Greeks trying to set us up?

Signed,
Troubled in Troy

Response:
I'm happy you wrote me, as I happen to know a few things about wooden
horses. First, I'd like to mention that Greeks are the most trustworthy
people I know. The wooden horse is exactly what they say it is, and if you
bring it inside the gate, not only will it make your city impregnable, it'll
make you a better lover. So if I were you, I'd welcome the horse inside, and then I'd leave it
all alone for a few days. Magical wooden horses don't
like to be watched by guards.

*
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *

THE
OBIT CRITIC

Troy
McKinley: No one would deny that Troy McKinley, who died last week from a
heart attack at the age of 65, lived a full life (judging by the size of his
casket, I'd say he was full most of the time). Troy was a stellar
businessman, and he liked to portray himself as a self-made man, but I do
believe that he tended to minimize the role his in-laws played in his
success. Also, because of Troy's constant battle with his weight, I found
his death, much like his life, was overly predictable. While it's no
stretch to say that Troy lived the good life, it was by no means great.
I'm awarding his life 2½
stars.

Carol
Moore: Carol proved you could have it all. She had both a family and
career, and except for Tommy, she did a wonderful job raising her
children. Carol was a good friend of mine, and I was sad to see her pass
away from cancer at the age of 68. One thing about Carol, though: if she
really was so devoted to beauty, then how come she never got a nose job?
Minor quibbles aside, Carol had the perfect life, and were it not for the
regrettable incident at the Howe party (that punch was far too strong), I'd be
giving her a perfect score. Instead she gets a near perfect 3½
stars.

Ruth
Williams: Poor Ruth. Where to begin? Ruth Williams, who
disappeared in the jungles of Borneo two months ago and is assumed to be dead at
43, represented the good in all of humanity, and she never missed an opportunity
to remind us of that. I know I am not the only one who found Ruth to be
overbearing and hypocritical. And those outfits! No wonder she never
found a man. Ruth gave her life to saving the world, and it gives me no
pleasure pointing out that she so obviously failed. I'm giving her a
generous 1½
stars.

William
Cryer: Bill Cryer had it made. He had the wife, he had the kids,
he even got to live to the ripe old age of 87. But I still have this
sneaking suspicion that, for as long as Bill lived, things just came a little
too easy for him. Maybe if he'd experienced more conflict, like a divorce
or two, and hadn't spent so much time on the golf course, then maybe his life
wouldn't have seemed so overlong. Bill certainly was a nice guy, but for
such an uneventful life, I thought that it stretched on about five years too
long. Bill gets 2½
stars.

Edith
Stanhope: No one was more saddened by Edith's death last Thursday from
natural causes at the age of 85 than me. Edith Stanhope was a pillar of
society, she threw the best parties, and as long as you stayed on her good side,
she could even be quite friendly. It's almost nitpicking to point out that
Edith could be narrow minded at times. Also, I found her recent conversion
to Catholicism entirely unbelievable. While I think we will all cherish
our memories of Edith, I don't believe those memories will be all that
long-lasting. Edith gets 3 stars.

*
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *

CELEBRITY
IMPERSONATOR GOSSIP

It
seems an Elvis impersonator from California has been charged with a
series of home burglaries. The Elvis impersonator insists he's
innocent, saying, "they're just hassling me because I'm a black Elvis
impersonator. You don't see them bothering no white Elvises."
He is currently being detained in the Davis Correctional Building. Let's
hope he gets himself a good attorney so that Elvis can leave the building.

Looks
like the Steven Spielberg impersonator has got himself a stalker.
Said pseudo-Steven, "at first I wasn't too worried, you know, because I
just figured he was a Steven Spielberg stalker impersonator. But
then, once he killed my cat, I knew he was for real." I called the
real Steven Spielberg for comment but could not get through.

A
Bob Hope impersonator died recently due to complications following heart
surgery. Bob Hope's career has spanned six decades in show
business, from his film pairings with Bing Crosby to his TV specials to
his work entertaining the troops, and his impersonator will be sorely missed.

The
Keanu Reeves impersonator I ran into the other day seemed despondent over
the weak opening of Keanu's new film, "Sweet November." Said
the Reeves look-alike, "If Keanu's box office doesn't pick up soon,
I might have to put on a floppy hat and red shirt and go back to
impersonating Gilligan."

My
sources have reported that there was a Kevin Costner impersonator spotted at a bar last
week with more than a few drinks under his belt. Apparently he is going
through a particularly difficult identity crises. Said the Costner
impersonator when I reached him, "Now that Kevin Costner is coming out with a film
where he plays an Elvis impersonator, what the hell does that make
me?" All I know is if the drinking keeps up, then he may have to
check himself into the Betty Ford Impersonator Clinic.

There's
a vicious rumor going around about Rupert Everett's impersonator: there
has been some speculation that he may not be gay! Asked about the charges, the fake-Everett
responded, "Look, if the real Rupert wanted to sleep with me, I'd go
to bed with him in a second, so doesn't that make me gay?" Then he
added, "I don't think people should judge me just because my domestic
partner happens to be a woman."

The
faux-star studded party to benefit Muscular Dystrophy last weekend at the New York, New York hotel in Las Vegas
was a total blast. The hotel really rolled
out the off-red carpet for the gala event. The Robert Downey, Jr.
impersonator was partying as hard as, well, as hard as the real Robert
Downey, Jr. And it seems the on again, off again romance between the Tom
Cruise and Nicole Kidman impersonators is off again (apparently they
both want to be single just in case they get a chance to hook-up with their real life
significant others). And who can forget the fight that broke out between
the Ernest Hemmingway impersonator and the Pee Wee Herman
impersonator (thank god the Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonator was there
to break it up). Also, I guess the Marilyn Monroe
impersonator was having trouble with a very insistent JFK impersonator (who kept saying, "Come on, we have a history together.").
Finally, because he wouldn't leave her
alone, the Marilyn impersonator ended up going home with a Pauly Shore impersonator (who may or may not have been an
impersonator).

And
how was your week?

*
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *

GRAFFITI
FROM THE BATHROOM OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE

If
you want to boldly go where no man has gone before meet me in this stall
tomorrow night.

How
come every time I ask Scottie to beam me up to Uranus I end up here?

Who's
that dumping in the stall next to mine?
Stinks so bad my nostrils hurt
Is it Chekov? Is it Sulu?
Guess again it's Captain Kirk

Is
that an alien life form or did someone forget to flush?

Know
why Spock can't get it up? 'Cause every time he pees he holds his dick
with the Vulcan death grip.

What's
red and scaly and itches? The rash of Khan.

Fight
Klingons. Wipe twice.

Stardate
3457.2: the Captain's log is not coming out of the Captain very easily.Stardate 3457.3: Captain's log is flushed.

Why
do human beings cover these walls
With their foolish attempts at being comical
I do not understand their species at all
I find them most illogical

*
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *

HOW
THE GRINCH STOLE VALENTINE'S DAY

This
is the tale of a Grinch

Who
thought love was no treasure

He
had a heart ten times tougher

Than
dinosaur leather

And
could not stand to let lovers

Make
Music together

Sure
he knew about love

He
had been to the movies

He
liked Steven Seagal

He
wasn't too choosy

But
instead of "Love Story"

He
liked "My Brand New Uzi"

So
to all the chocolate heart candies

And
the "I love you" sweets

He
added some instant headache

And
a dash of Salt Pete

To
make sure Valentine's Day

Was
love making's defeat

And
the Grinch knew that jewelry

Was
a Valentine's winner

And
while awaiting a ring

Many
loved ones would simmer

So
he left all the diamonds

But
made-off with their glimmer

Then
the next trick he tricked

Took
every brain cell to think

For
he crafted the craftiest

Invisible
ink

And
all the "I love you" cards

When
opened up read "You stink!"

And
what about roses?

This
one takes the pot

He
counted every last petal

Of
every rose bought

And
all who plucked out "She loves me"

Got
"She loves me not!"

So
what happened with love?

On
this day most diabolical

I
really wish I was wrong

But
my facts are reliable

Many
couples uncoupled

Their
differences irreconcilable

And
who is this Grinch?

What
sort could he be?

The
kind who'd knock love

Down
on one knee

If
you haven't already guessed

He's
a divorce attorney

*
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *

LEGAL
DISCLAIMER FOR GENIE LANTERN

There
is a no-return policy on items that have been wished.

If
your wish contains words that are ambiguous or have a double meaning
(i.e. pussy, or a little head), then the genie will choose whichever meaning is
most ridiculous.

If
a husband so chooses to wish his wife young and sexy, the genie is
not responsible if the wife leaves him.

The
genie is not responsible for any items that are lost or stolen when being transported to some wished upon destination.

The
genie cannot honor any wish involving Tom Hanks as his life is already under the
influence of three very well stated wishes.

When
wishing for money, if the currency or amount is not stated clearly (i.e. dollars
can be either American or Canadian), then the genie will choose whichever amount
has the lowest value.

Anyone
wishing to sleep with Pamela Anderson must be prepared to wait as there is a
rather long genie-wish waiting list (although there is some availability in the
five minutes or less line).

The
genie will grant only three wishes. Not four, not five, not five
hundred. Three! Anyone who insists on wishing for more wishes will,
rest assured, wish they never had.

If
one of your wishes is to be IMPORTANT, please make sure that you pronounce the
word slowly and clearly and that you enunciate the R.

The
genie is not a licensed doctor, and therefore cannot be held responsible for
any medical problems that may result from impossibly large sexual organs.

Anyone
wishing to live forever, please remember that forever is a very long time.